


Hold In These Hands

by herwhiteknight



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-ep 5, SacChloe Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-episode 5, SacChloe. Max doesn't remember, but after the events of Chloe's death, she made Victoria promise to keep her safe. Five days later, after the funeral, Victoria intends to keep that promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold In These Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a result of late night feels, listening to "Skulls" by Bastille on repeat and ( http://iminchains.tumblr.com/post/132281789406 ) this wonderful piece of fan art that I will keep crying over for the rest of my days. It's too beautiful, I just. Yeah.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! Leave any comments, thoughts and feels if you so desire! :)

Victoria's arms feel like safety. They're soft with warmth and rigid with safety and they're encasing Max with strength and an overwhelming emotion that she doesn't want to name, for fear of betrayal crawling its way up her spine.

But crawl up her spine it does, because Victoria's arms feel like fear. Fear that makes her cling harder, in a way that could be considered choking. Her fingernails dig into Victoria's expensive cashmere jacket as the light of the golden hour falls over them both, making the moment seem more beautiful than it is.

But nothing will be beautiful again.

“Get away from me,” Max gasps suddenly, shoving, scrabbling at Victoria's shoulders, panic and bile rising up in her throat. This was _their_ spot, where _they_ reunited. How dare Max try to mar the image of serenity with the palpable grief of this timeline? This timeline doesn't know despair, this lighthouse doesn't know tears, that bench doesn't know fear. So _no,_ she will not be ruining this place with tears. Tears are a betrayal. And so are Victoria's arms.

“Max-”

“No. D-don't. Don't touch me, you can't,” Max snaps, taking three strides away from Victoria, folding her arms across herself in the absence of the terrifying safety of Victoria's and staring blankly at the wall of the lighthouse. That wall didn't know the battering wrath of a tornado. Max had made sure of that.

“I know it hurts,” Victoria's voice drifts softly over to her, and Max shudders an inhale at how gentle it is.

“You should hate me,” Max deflects, stepping further away, pressing her forehead into the rough stone of the lighthouse wall when she could go no further. “You all should hate me.”

“Don't say things like that. You told me you saved us. All of us,” Victoria murmurs, and her voice is close. Too close.

“Get back,” Max snarls, whipping around like a wounded animal and presses her back into the wall, her eyes flicking from Victoria's arms and beyond, weighing out her options, her escape.

Victoria puts her arms up, a gesture of peace and an offer of comfort. But Max doesn't see either. “It's okay,” Victoria says uselessly, but the empty words are soothing somehow. They shouldn't be, but they are.

For only a moment. “I killed her!” Max shrieks, and Victoria's expression freezes imperceptibly at the confession, “Those people down there – _Joyce,_ she... she's mourning because of _me!”_

“We'll get through this Max,” Victoria soothes softly, stepping closer and ignoring the way Max's battering arms are trying to hammer through Victoria's defences. “You don't have to do it alone. I've got you.”

“You're pathetic!” Max howls, pushing at Victoria's chest, but her strength is weakened by bones broken by grief and a will shattered by fear, and Victoria holds on, pulls her closer. “You're trying to replace her but, b-but you c-can't! No one can – I should have let this place drown!”

At this, Victoria recoils, and it takes everything in her not to let go of Max. She swore to herself she wouldn't, not for anything. _Max is scared,_ Victoria reminds herself, stepping back only to give Max space, keeping one hand on her quivering shoulder. _She still needs someone nearby, no matter what she says._ “You're right. I can't replace Chloe-”

“Don't you fucking say her name, you don't deserve-”

Victoria raises her hands to Max's temples and tilts her head down, leaning in and dropping a kiss onto her forehead. And as with every panic attack in the days previous, the soft touch stays the shivering in Max's body. Reduces her to noisy tears.

“You chose me, Max,” Victoria reminds her softly, lifting her head up, “And even though I thought you were crazy at first.. something made me believe you. So you don't get to abandon me now. You can blame me all you want, god knows I deserve it, but you aren't leaving me. I wont let you.”

Max starts shaking again, tears and snot staining the sleeve of Victoria's cashmere, but she's used to it at this point. “C-Chloe's.. s-she's g-gone because of m-me,” Max clutches at the small of Victoria's back, scrabbling for an anchor, for anything and everything to hold on to. Hoping Victoria can stabilize her, even for just a moment. Because she's been so strong for everyone else in the past few days, because she can't keep it in anymore. Because she needs someone to protect and look after her for once.

And Victoria's right here. “Shh,” Victoria breathes into her ear, and the comforting rush of white noise dances past Max's ear, “Look at me,” Victoria encourages, bringing Max's head up with a light tap of her finger under Max's chin.

“I'm looking,” Max mumbles a little childishly, studying the green eyes that used to hide everything but incredulity from her. But they aren't hiding anything now.

“I can't imagine what you've been through, okay? And I know you haven't told me everything – don't give me that look, Caulfield. You can't lie, alright? I've spent the past three nights talking you down from your nightmares, I know there's more going on.”

“Victoria, I-”

“And I don't need to know anything else. Not until you're ready to tell me,” Victoria overrides her gently, settling her arms back around Max's waist and nudging Max back into her warmth. “Just don't push me out, okay? You made me promise you that.”

“I did?” Max asks, wiggling an arm in between their flush bodies to push her tears away.

Victoria nods, capturing Max's wandering hand and holding it against her chest, and for once doesn't think about how stupid such a gesture would look to an outsider. “I'm not surprised you don't remember; it was your first panic attack and I still thought you were crazy. But you wouldn't let me leave until I promised to keep you safe.”

Max stares into Victoria's eyes for another long moment, before humming quietly in agreement, her gaze drifting over the golden scenery that surrounds them.

“Will you let me keep that promise, Max?” Victoria prompts, continuing into a compassionate command, “I want to hear you say it.”

Over Victoria's shoulder, Max catches sight of a blue butterfly settled atop the wooden bench, its wings beating twice in apparent serenity. She stiffens slightly, feeling panic clog her throat in another moment of fear. Victoria just drops another kiss onto her temple this time, and Max finds the strength to say, “I will.”


End file.
